


Too Many Cooks (Spoil the Broth)

by Hexiva



Category: James Bond (Dynamite Entertainment Comics)
Genre: (in the loose sense), Baking, Canon Character of Color, Drabble, Fluff, Gen or Pre-Slash, James Bond Can Cook, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva
Summary: James Bond is just trying to make the most of his day off by baking himself some nice macarons, when he is interrupted by an uninvited guest.
Relationships: James Bond/John Lee | Oddjob
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Too Many Cooks (Spoil the Broth)

**Author's Note:**

> Another randomly generated prompt fic, the prompt being "John Lee/James Bond, meringue." Well, "macaron" is derived from the Italian word for "meringue," and I felt that macarons were more Bond's sort of thing, given that they have a reputation as being ridiculously complicated to bake as well as very luxurious and refined. Written for MI6 Cafe's Rarepair February.

With macarons, as with spycraft, details are everything. Each ingredient must be carefully measured, evened out each into its little measuring cup and gently poured into the mix. Then, the dry ingredients must be sifted, twice if necessary, to make sure the entire mixture is smooth and homogenous. The egg whites must be carefully separated from the whites, lest they impede the whipping. Beating the egg whites, too, is important - the peaks must be stiff, but never dry. 

James Bond surveyed the peaks, and judged that they were nearly done. It was important to mix in the food coloring before you were quite done whipping, so as not to accidentally over-mix the whites while adding the food coloring. Bond added the blue dye with a liberal hand; he knew the color would lighten in the oven, and he was not particularly fond of pastel colors. 

“Hey, James - ”

At the sound of an unexpected voice, Bond’s mind shifted gears at lightning speed. Someone had broken into his house. He was in danger. He whipped around, and threw the object in his hand at the intruder, as hard as possible. A distraction tactic, as he reached for the nearest pan to use it as a club - 

“Augh! What the fuck, James?!”

Bond’s hand stopped, and his eyes fully took in the sight of John Lee, standing in his kitchen covered in blue food dye. 

“Do you have any idea how much a custom suit costs these days?!” Lee demanded, trying hopelessly to wipe away the dye that was even now turning his crimson shirt purple. 

“It serves you right,” Bond said, his heart still pounding. “What the hell are you doing, breaking into my flat like this? We weren’t supposed to meet until this evening. I’m off-duty. I’m  _ baking.” _

“I can see that,” Lee said. “Who would have guessed the dashing James Bond even owned an apron?”

“Lee,” Bond bit out.

Lee sighed. “Something came up, okay?” He shrugged out of his suit jacket, laying it to the side in the hopes it might be salvaged, and then wiggled out of his ruined shirt. Bond’s eyes traced lasciviously down the muscular chest - and then stopped abruptly, as they came to a bloodstained bandage plastered to Lee’s side.

“Don’t worry,” Lee said, catching Bond’s look. “It’s just a graze. I hit the ground just in time. But as you can see, I had to show up a little early for our meeting. I would have knocked, but they were listening, so I, er, let myself in. Hid in your living room until they went away.”

Bond looked him up and down, appraising. He was right; Bond could see even through the bandage that there wasn’t enough blood for any truly serious injury. “I should alert my superiors,” he said.

“Already done, courtesy of your friends in Seoul,” Lee said, with a mock salute. “Don’t let me end your day off early. I’ll just take a seat and catch my breath for a moment.”

“You’re good to walk?” Bond asked, thoughtfully. “Won’t start bleeding again if you move too fast?”

“It really is just a scratch,” Lee said, apologetically. “Doesn’t need stitches.”

“Good,” Bond said. “Then you can help me bake.” He turned back to the egg whites, and started folding the blue dye into them. “Grab a measuring spoon and get me a teaspoon of coffee. These macarons aren’t going to flavor themselves.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave a comment!


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